Translations from Heine.
173
She blooms and glows and brightens,
Intent on him above;
Exhaling, weeping, trembling,
With ever-yearning love.
The world is dull, the world is blind,
And daily grows more silly!
It says of you, my lovely child,
You are not quite a lily.
The world is dull, the world is blind,
And judges in stupid fashion:
It knows not how sweet your kisses are,
And how they burn with passion.
I blame thee not, a broken heart my lot,
O Love for ever lost! I blame thee not.
Though thou art splendid with the diamonds bright,
There falls no gleam within thy heart's deep night.
I've known this long. I saw thee in clear dream,
And saw black night within thy soul supreme,
And saw the worm still fretting at thy heart;
I saw how wretched, O my love, thou art.
